So I did a thing, I turned 42 this year. We were in Louisiana visiting David’s family and friends. For my birthday David took me out to Ship Island, a place that means so much to me. We walked up the beach until we found a quiet spot away from the crowd. We swam and ate and played. This time I put on my goggles and snorkel and went to float on my belly. The world became silent and close. David grabbed my feet and floated me around as I relaxed in my oceanic cocoon.
When we got back to David’s parents house we found that his mom had set up a little birthday dinner complete with brownies and 2 kinds of ice cream.
Birthdays after about 36 or 37 don’t really seem to matter as much unless it’s a ‘milestone’, like 40. I turned 42 and it wasn’t a big deal but also it was perfect.
As a bit of a side note… there was almost no life in the waters where we were swimming. No crabs, maybe 2 comb jellies, no periwinkles on the beach. A sheepshead fish followed us a bit but there was nothing to stir up for him to eat. Weird? Sad?